


plum

by twoheadlights (fizzfic)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AnOverthinkingPhil, Getting Back Together, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, New York City, danisasleepyboy, my brand is ALIVE thank u troye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-15 13:57:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16064537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzfic/pseuds/twoheadlights
Summary: "Have you ever woken up next to someone and been like, 'you know I don’t think this is going to work out'?"-things start to look a little different away from london. it gets phil thinking.





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**Author's Note:**

> track number seven!!! we're almost done omg 
> 
> u know im starting to realise this album is sadder than we were made to believe (or me and charlotte have an angst kink and we're perceiving it to be This Sad) but dw i tried to make this fic sorta happy ur welcs 
> 
> ur support is so so appreciated thank u and i hope u like this! xx

**new york** **  
** **april, 2013**

 

Phil watches as Dan giggles into his glass of wine and he feels like a giant fist just grabbed his heart and squashed it. So that's where he's at with the whole getting-over-his-ex-that-he-lives-with-and-shares-a-whole-brand-with.

They'd officially called it quits four months previously, after going back and forth, nights spent together, morning air thick with guilt the next day. Frankly, they’d gotten sick of it. But when you’ve intertwined your life with someone else like Phil has with Dan, there’s no escaping each other. You can’t have ‘space’ from someone when you have to plan and present a radio show every week, and interview celebrities together and take trips to New York together. No, Phil doesn’t get that luxury.

Everything was going fine so far though. They acted professionally, keeping the conversation to work, and takeout mostly. It’s Dan’s first time in New York, and he wants to see all the sights, do all the things, get traditional New York pancakes in his system for breakfast every day.

Tonight they’re in their hotel room, having ordered steak for dinner, popped open a bottle of red and Phil's – happy. Giddy, almost.

“I want to stay here forever,” he declares. “You can go on without me.”

Dan raises an eyebrow at him. “And what exactly should I say to Kath and Nigel when I return to the motherland without their precious Dibbit?”

“I regret ever telling you about that, and I’m sure they’ll be fine. They have Martyn.”

“And what about me?” Dan’s face is flushed, maybe from the drinking, maybe from what he just said. He may have meant for it to be a joke, but it _really_ doesn’t feel like it and Dan’s eyes are wide and he’s actually asking Phil what his state of mind would be if they separated as if thinking about something like that doesn’t make him want a black hole to swallow him up. Because the thing is, _the thing is_ , Phil is so desperate to have Dan in his life, he doesn’t care what capacity it’s in. Dan’s his person, the one he sees as a constant in his life.

Tonight, Phil’s glad he isn’t alone. It feels like professionally, at least, things have been looking too good to be true. But they are. Good, that is.  

“I’m tipsy,” Dan says suddenly. Then breaks out in giggles again. “Today was so great. You were amazing.”

“But you were so confident!”

“Yeah, but you handled everything pretty well too, like, I had a full-on breakdown before meeting Pete Wentz, Olly Murs, the tour guide at Radio City—”

Phil laughs. “You’re definitely more than tipsy.”

Dan pouts and replies, “So are you. Your eyes are all glassy, although maybe that's just what happens when you age—” He stops right there, because a pillow hits him right in the face, courtesy of Phil. He hugs the pillow and says, “Remember the last time we were this drunk, it was in London, and and, remember we were literally like, three bottles down, and we tried to have sex but you couldn’t - get it up - and -” He stops dead, eyes wide, probably realising what he’d just said.

Phil coughs, but that does nothing but thicken the air of tension even more than before. That had happened a few days before The Incident. When the video got out and changed everything between them, even though they completely denied it in the beginning. To be honest, it’s not like they’d stopped sleeping together when they moved to London. It happened - that kind of stuff _happens_ when you live with your ex. But it’s not happening anymore - they haven’t done that since...well, since the year began, pretty much. It’s like they both made unspoken new year resolutions: _don’t have sex with your ex-boyfriend that you live with_.

He drinks the rest of his wine and burps. “Well, thank fuck we don’t have to worry about that tonight, huh?” He says, jokingly. Trying to break the ice. “Because we’re not. Doing that.”

Dan nods, but there’s no humour in his eyes anymore. He’s looking thoughtfully at his own hands. Thinking hard.

“Hey.” Phil says. “What?” He nudges Dan’s knee with a bare foot.

Dan sighs – “Just. I’ve been thinking this whole trip.”

“That can’t be good.”

“Fuck off. No, listen, before I lose my nerve.” Phil shuts up. “I...really had so much fun. And I don’t think I would’ve, if, you know, I’d done this solo.” He looks at Phil pointedly, and gets a huff in response. So Phil hadn’t wanted to go until he heard it was in New York. He didn’t want to be stuck in a hotel room with Dan. Sue him. But Phil loves New York; he missed it. So here he is. In his most favourite city in the world, with his most favourite person in the world. He acted like it was _such_ a task, accompanying Dan on the trip, pretending to roll his eyes at the ‘we’re a duo, _Phiiil_ ,’ comment and complaining mildly at everything but secretly also enjoying himself immensely.

“I’m glad I came,” Phil says.

There's a ghost of a smile on Dan's face. “Yeah. Hey, can I ask you something?”

“You're going to, regardless of what I say so, sure.”

“D'you...do you think we should've actually broken up?”

The silence that follows. Phil can _hear_ it. He can't say the wrong thing now. Out of the two of them, he's the one who thinks a little bit, despite his slip-ups in videos. So now he mulls over Dan's words in his head. He sucks in a breath. “What do you mean?” He asks.

“I mean,” Dan responds eagerly, leaning forward now, “We broke up because of what, that video? We hoped it would go away, that intrusiveness, if we put some distance between us, _literally_. But tell me, Phil, has it made any difference at all?”

Phil swallows. It really...hasn't. If he was being honest with himself – people were still doing the most, the video was being circulated no matter how many times he got it taken down. “I see your point,” he says slowly, “but I'm guessing there's more.”

Dan nods. “Yeah, of course. Look, I'm just saying. There was no _point_ . Phil, I miss you.” And the, the look in his eyes, he can't do it. He turns away, and Dan grabs his wrist and Phil still doesn't look, he can't. He feels Dan come closer, kneel down in front of him. Hands on Phil’s knees. “I _miss_ you.” He squeezes slightly and his fingers slide to his thigh and _oh_. “Don’t you?”

He misses the sex. Cool.

“I do,” Phil admits. “I guess, yeah, I do miss you.”

“I miss being close,” Dan continues eagerly. “But, but, if you don’t want to - I, I totally get it, I don’t want to push -”

“No!” Phil says hurriedly, grabbing Dan’s hands in his. “It’s not that, I _do_. I just...I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of you changing your mind.” He hates how vulnerable he sounds. Despises how small his voice is.

Dan doesn’t say anything. Phil just looks at their intertwined fingers and regrets opening his mouth. After what feels like an eternity but is only a few seconds, Dan lets go of his hand only to use it to hold Phil’s chin up to look at him. He’s so close - too close. Phil can feel his breath on him. “I wouldn’t,” Dan whispers. And then in the blink of an eye, Dan’s lips are on his.

It’s painfully soft and slow, their first kiss in months. Phil almost whines into Dan’s mouth, but he has _some_ dignity, and also a small part of him thinks this might not be a real thing that’s happening and he’s dreaming so he doesn’t mind not going fast.

But then Dan’s hand is on his thigh, and slowly going up to the hem of his shirt, under it and Phil _really_ can’t resist himself from making a noise at the back of his throat. Dan’s nails graze his skin under the shirt and Phil’s breath hitches. He grabs the side of Dan’s face and pushes him down. Thankfully, they’re sat on the edge of Phil’s single bed so they fall on soft white sheets.

Dan giggles - fucking _giggles_ \- when Phil straddles him on the bed and pulls him down by his belt loops to kiss him again.

After that, Phil lets himself get lost in touches and the little noises Dan makes as they re-familiarise themselves with each other. As if Phil could ever forget. He knows the ins and outs of Dan Howell better than anyone - it’s something he’s super proud of.

The curtains aren’t drawn and they can see the skyline from the bed they’re lying in. Phil has his arms wrapped around Dan, his nose pressed against the younger man’s neck.

“Missed you so bad,” he murmurs against the nape of Dan’s neck. He kisses it and pulls him closer, wanting to close the distance even more.

“Hm,” Dan responds. He’s half-asleep, probably. Phil can feel himself getting tired too, as his vision blurs, a vignette forming at the edges. There’s something nagging him, but he forces himself to ignore it and falls asleep.

-

Phil wakes up to the sounds of sirens, so reminiscent of home that he thinks he’s back in London as soon as he opens his eyes. He sits up and yawns, immediately leaning to the bedside table to grab his glasses. Once he can see, he regards his surroundings. Hotel room in New York. Sunlight streaming in because _someone_ forgot to draw the curtains - wait.

Phil looks to his left, and there he is.

Dan, sprawled on the bed as much as he can be with the limited space, his mouth hanging open, drooling a little. His hair is a mess, curling at the ends because of he moisture even though they were in an air-conditioned room. Phil can’t resist the urge to sink back in and run his hands through his hair. He presses his lips against Dan’s temple, hoping he won’t stir, but Dan doesn’t move an inch. He’s breathing evenly, and the red patch that sometimes appears on his cheek is prominent right then.

Watching Dan now, Phil lets himself recap the events of the previous night. Dan saying, _I wouldn’t_.

Phil’s not by any means a pessimist - he’s a _realist_. Gone are the days he dreamt of things that were obviously achievable. Even after everything last night, he can’t bring himself to believe that anything is different today. Dan’s going to wake up, probably acknowledge Phil’s existence in a minuscule way - a nod of the head, a wave of the hand - take a shower, and they’ll never speak of this again. What happens in New York, et cetera.

Phil suddenly feels tired. Not in a sleepy way, but in that he feels a weight on his shoulders, in his heart pushing him further down into the bed. He pulls up the duvet to cover his head, not caring that it is also covering Dan. Screws his eyes shut and breathes in deeply through his nose. He thinks of not only last night now, but of all nights like it. And how hopeful he felt after every one of them and now his heart had the audacity to do it again. When he _knew_ that this wasn’t going to be a long-term thing. They have pockets of this limited time where they can pretend but ultimately, it’s not realistic. Things are different.

“Mmph, Phil,” comes Dan’s gruff, sleepy voice from his left. “What the - why is the -”

The duvet comes off their heads and the light hits him once more. His hand automatically shields his eyes and he turns away.

“You are so weird,” Dan says. Phil looks at him now, sat up and looking back with an amused expression on his face. “Did you sleep well?”

Phil nods.

Then something unexpected happens. Dan leans down and kisses Phil’s forehead. And yeah, maybe Phil did that too, but Dan was asleep. And then something even _more_ surprising happens. Dan swings his legs off the bed and gets up, and walks to the bathroom, finding his boxers on the way (maybe they’re Phil’s - it’s hard to tell) and putting them on smoothly. “We should get some fruit for breakfast,” he says, before entering the bathroom, and Phil thinks, _well, there it is, he’s not going to say anything_. That’s not the surprising bit. It’s this -

“Hey, Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” And Dan smiles then, the warmest Phil’s seen on him, heart-melting, dimples and all, and he’d be a fool to not say it back.

“Love you too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> (sorry this was so late btw! i started uni last week and it's my last year and SUPER hectic but i will try to get the next fic up soooooooooooon)


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